


The Devil's Teeth Stay Sharp

by Tabithian



Series: Fortunes Fade [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 10:26:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4218198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim doesn't try to scare Bruce and the others off, doesn't go out of his way to hurt them. He sticks to his territory, and they stick to theirs.</p><p>And who knows, maybe it could have gone on like that indefinitely, if it weren't for the fact that Tim is the Robin who died and Jason's the one who came after and that means something in their world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Devil's Teeth Stay Sharp

**Author's Note:**

> I was going through my WiP folder and came across this and cleaned it up a little. *hands*

Tim freezes when he realizes he's not alone, hand pressed to his side to stem the bleeding. 

“You're a goddamn moron.”

Tim breathes out a sigh and lowers his gun. 

Jason's sitting on his couch, arms crossed as he glares at him. His cape and gloves are laid out on Tim's coffee table beside his domino and Tim's medical kit.

“By all means, make yourself at home,” Tim says, watching him. (Waiting.)

He's been expecting something along these lines ever since he revealed himself weeks ago, for one of the others to track him down. To be honest, though, he wasn't quite expecting this. 

“I, uh.” Jason rubs the back of his neck. “I convinced them to let me talk to you first.”

Tim raises an eyebrow at that. “Really.”

Jason looks away, “I may have said some things I shouldn't have, but. Yeah.”

Tim winces at that. He remembers Jason's temper, remembers the things he used to say to Tim back when – back when. 

“Jason, you shouldn't be here.”

Jason ignores him because he's Jason, looks at Tim, hand still pressed to his side.

“Shut up,” he says, and then, “How bad is it?”

“I'll live,” Tim says, ignoring the look that crosses Jason's face at his words.“You should leave.”

Tim waves his gun at him in a vague shooing gesture, but he's tired and hurting and this is Jason, isn't it. Not too likely that's going to get him to budge.

“Yeah,” Jason says, reaching for the medical kit. “Like that's going to happen.”

“I know,” Tim says, and he's not sure what to think about that.

*******

Dick finds him next, but it's not exactly the meeting Tim was expecting.

“Human trafficking ring,” Tim says, sitting on the edge of a roof overlooking the chaos down at street level as police officers and emergency crews swarm the area. 

He feels tired, older than he's ever been.

“Tim - “

“You'd think things like this would get easier,” Tim says, watches as a gurney with a body bag on it is taken to one of the waiting ambulances. 

It looks smaller than it should, like the body inside isn't quite big enough to fill it and Tim closes his eyes as something in the back of his mind howls because he knows _why_. (This is Gotham, isn't it. This is how it goes here.)

He can feel Dick watching him, unsure of what to say because he knows, knows what Tim's capable of now - what he's always been capable of. Knows Tim's the one behind the mess in warehouse on the waterfront two weeks ago, and the packing plant a week before that. (Here. Now.)

It would be so easy, so very easy to blame the Pit for this, for the damned voices slipping into the cracks formed by doubt and insecurity and taking root. Helping Tim see that some decisions really didn't need to be agonized over, didn't need to be weighed against morals and ethics. 

Or maybe this would have happened anyway, Tim breaking away from them to do what had to be done. (His mother's son, always.)

Tim's tired of this, of the way Dick's looking at him, the way Bruce, skulking in the shadows, is looking at him.

Standing, he watches Dick move closer, wanting to reach out to him, and behind him Bruce takes a step forward, just clearing the shadows. 

They've tracked him down here and there since Jason's little visit, but he doesn't think he's ever _told_ them. (And this is the truth, the thing that lets Tim push the nightmares away, that quiets what the Pit woke in him.)

“For what it's worth,” he says, taking a step backwards, heels over empty space ready to leap, get away before they can stop him, “I never regretted it.”

*******

“You're a bastard,” Jason says, when Tim snags the cigarette dangling out of his mouth and flicks it over the side of the roof. “Fucking seriously.”

He could be talking about anything, but Tim has a feeling he knows what this is about.

Jason's eyes narrow, confirmation, but - 

“Alfred,” Tim says.

He may be the crazy one here, but even he knows better than to encourage Jason's bad habits. 

Jason snorts, kicks Tim's leg. “Chicken.”

Tim glances at him, like Jason doesn't know Alfred's scarier than all of them put together and then some.

“Shut up,” Jason mutters, leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. 

Tim waits because this, Jason seeking him out, has been happening more and more lately. Tim should put a stop to it, but he has the feeling Jason comes to him for a reason.

Jason sighs, rolling his head to look at Tim. “Need a sidekick?” he asks, only half joking. “I've got training.”

And this.

Jason's starting to grow out of the role of Robin and it's clear to anyone with eyes to see. What's not as obvious is the reason he's so reluctant to leave it behind. (Tim's afraid it's because of him.)

“No,” Tim says after a long moment. And he's thought of this, of using this opportunity to his advantage, but this is Jason.

Jason who didn't let Bruce go somewhere he shouldn't when Tim died, kept Bruce alive with his stubborn will and drive and Tim can't do that to him. To any of them.

Jason's face closes down, and Tim.

“You know how I convinced him to take me on as Robin?” Jason asks, tipping his head to look at Tim. “I told him,” Jason laughs, bitter, “I told him Batman needed a Robin.”

Tim winces, looks away. “Jason - “

“I told him this punk said that to me, you know? This kid who'd gotten cut up saving this ungrateful asshole said that to me while he's bleeding like a stuck pig, and he just.”

Another laugh, short, sharp. “I had to fight for it, you bastard. Had to prove to him that I could do it, that I could live up to the role.” Jason smiles, tired, as he looks at Tim. “That I wasn't going to die on him.”

“I'm sorry,” Tim says. Gotham's always been cruel, demanding more of her people than they can give and always asking for more.

Jason looks up at him. “Don't be,” he says with a sigh. “Not for that.” The corners of his mouth turn up, bemused. “That punk was right, you know. Batman needs a Robin.”

A truth for a truth, then, or something close to it.

“I wasn't going to be Robin forever,” Tim says, and this isn't something he's ever really talked to anyone about, really, Ra's aside. “I knew that when I started.”

Jason's quiet beside him, uneasy because he knows where this is going.

“I figured it was a matter of time before - “ Tim looks at Jason, smiles at the way he doesn't look away. “If it wasn't Joker, it would have been someone else,” Tim says, and that's something he's always known. “And if it wasn't? I'd outgrow Robin one day.”

“So what am I supposed to do?” Jason asks, anger seeping in. “Join the ex-Robins club?”

Tim looks at Jason, at the look on his face and can't not.

“Well, we do get these nifty little pins, and the meetings are pretty great.” Tim says, watching Jason. “Dick always forgets to bring something for the potluck, though.”

“...Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I could be,” Tim says, but. “Jason. You don't have to be Robin forever, either. Look at Dick.”

Tim doesn't make the mistake of telling Jason to look at him, because. _Look at him._.

“I thought 'Batman needed a Robin',” Jason says, and there are barbs in there that hit their mark all too well.

“He does,” Tim says. “It just doesn't have to be you if you don't want it to be.”

Jason. Jason goes still and looks at Tim. “You have someone in mind, don't you?”

Tim couldn't just come back to Gotham without the proper preparations, the necessary intel. He needed to know who the major players were, how everything connected. Needed to know what he'd be walking into.

Barbara was smart enough to snap up Cass and Steph, so that leaves a very short list to work with.

“Jesus,” Jason says. “You haven't changed at all, have you?”

*******

Tim understands, he does, he just. Doesn't _understand_.

“I never blamed you.”

From Dick's wince, it was the wrong thing to say. 

“Dick - “

“I met your parents.”

Tim's turn to wince. 

“They.” Dick shakes his head, tries to find the words, but this Tim has no problem understanding.

“I remember.” 

Rooms that echoed, faces that never stayed, oh he remembers.

“You always were hard to read,” Dick says. “I just thought...”

Tim slides a look at him from the corner of his eye, sees the misplaced guilt.

“We didn't exactly get off on the right foot,” Tim says, as though that's not a major understatement. 

Dick makes a pained noise, and maybe this isn't the best idea for them. Maybe -

“Jason told me he's been talking to you,” Dick says, and of all things looks grateful. “I. Thanks. For that, he's going through a rough time right now with Bruce.”

Tim snorts, feels a small smile tugging at his mouth.

“You know what I mean,” Dick says, and that's almost laughter in his voice, because really, who hasn't gone through a rough patch with Bruce? “Shut up.”

“He's doing okay,” Tim says, because it's Jason and Tim's always known he could hold his own with Bruce. “They'll be okay.”

Dick watches him for a long moment, and just when Tim's starting to feel twitchy, Dick sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Still looking out for us after everything, huh?”

Tim just looks at him, helpless.

(Someone has to.)

*******

Tim has a habit of disappearing for days, weeks, months at a time. If he's feeling so inclined, he'll let one of the Bats know, usually Jason. Dick, more and more, and Bruce - he tells Bruce those times when he's feeling most like his old self. 

Barbara, of course, always knows when he's gone, Tim's not naive enough to think otherwise.

So he tells Jason he'll be out of Gotham for a while - _“Personal matters, and no, I won't need help,”_ \- and _goes_. 

This time takes him longer than he expected, complications upon complications, but Barbara knows when he gets back to Gotham, so of course Jason shows up not long after. 

*******

“Where the hell have you been,” Jason demands, looking slightly frenzied. “Do you know how crazy Dick's been driving all of us?”

Tim has a vague idea, actually.

Jason stops for a breath, and squints at Tim. “You look like shit, what the hell happened?”

There's.

“Drake, these living conditions are deplorable. I insist - “

Tim watches Jason's face as he turns to look at the figure in the doorway. 

Short, arrogant, very close to being impossible.

“Holy fuck.”

“Damian,” Tim says, faint smile curving his lips. “Meet your older brother, Jason.”

(It was a _very_ short list. Just one name on it, in fact.)

*******

"You're enjoying this, aren't you."

Tim looks at Jason, corner of his mouth ticking up the tiniest bit. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Jason snorts, giving Tim a look he has to have learned from Alfred. "Bullshit."

Tim shrugs, looking back to the Brownstone. Inside, Bruce is trying to get through to Damian with Dick acting as mediator, and Damian is - 

Damian is every bit as stubborn as Bruce, if not more so. 

The fact that Jason seeks Tim out whenever he has a falling out with Bruce is bad enough in Bruce's mind. That Damian has started doing the same...

"He's an idiot," Jason says, referring to Bruce.

And, well.

"He worries," Tim corrects.

About Dick, Jason, Damian. Tim.

Worries that the Pit's driven Tim irrevocably mad. That one day he'll do something unforgivable, be worse than Joker. That he'll exploit the trust Jason and Damian - _Dick_ \- has in him and hurt them, or worse.

Jason grimaces, rubs his face with his hands and sags, muttering a defeated, “God, you're just as bad as he is, aren't you?”

“...I don't know what you're talking about.”


End file.
